Guess Who's Staying at Apartment 7?
by Angelinsydney
Summary: Tim McGee visited Spike Scarlatti in Toronto. Don Eppes of Numb3rs and Abby Sciuto of NCIS also guest starred in this unique three-way crossover. My usual serving of intrigue/fun/laughter. "Sweet!" Dedicated to an FP fan called Chelza.
1. The Elf Lord Cometh

_Author's Note: To enjoy this crossover story, please read "Apartment 7, Spike's Own" first, a five-minute one-shot story. Apartment 7 also featured in "Hope" specifically Chapter 9, entitled "The Money Trail". _

_St Elmo's Coffee Pub in Washington, D.C. actually exists but I don't own it nor even set foot inside it. Everything said about it in this story was based on their internet site._

_This is a unique triple crossover, hope you enjoy it. Thank you._

**The Elf Lord Cometh**

There's a message on his Facebook account, "Comin' to TO buddy. Time to catch up?" Spike's face brightened, "Yes," he pumped his fist. The message was from his buddy Timothy McGee of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service based in Washington, D.C.

They first met over three years ago through a symposium they attended on the challenges of Computer Forensics, sometimes also called Digital Forensics or Cyberforensics, a relatively new and fast evolving science for modern crime fighters. To be precise, Spike was attending, Tim was leading. The Canadian was at the symposium simply out of interest, his way of enjoying his holiday. Or ordinarily, in the normal course of their duties they wouldn't cross paths.

Tim "Elf Lord" McGee attended the world famous MIT and John Hopkins University, and had a reputation as a computer forensic expert. Michaelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti didn't study at an Ivy League university but was a brilliant scientist nevertheless. Computer forensics was more like a hobby for him; his passion was elsewhere, chemistry and robotics.

Besides being on the brainy side, they shared one other **adorkable** reputation at work. Tim has been with the NCIS for nine years and the poor sod was still "probie", a tag he couldn't seem to shake. "Soon," he told Spike, "I won't be probie anymore." Spike teasingly told him "Sure, they'd retire you to pasture eventually." On the other hand, Spike couldn't shake the "puppy" identification tag he had acquired even after nearly five years with the SRU.

Surprisingly, they initially bonded over coffee. When the conference broke for lunch, Tim overheard Spike asked his fellow attendees where to find the best, being a native, Tim offered, "I'm going to St Elmo's Coffee Pub. It's a fun place." Spike was not one to refuse anything that sounded remotely Sesame Street-ish so he went along. He wasn't disappointed with the menu and the ambience and made a mental note to return on Thursday evening when a live not so modern jazz band played. It was, not strangely for Spike, the most enjoyable time of his week holiday in the American capital.

When they returned to their respective nests, Tim and Spike continued to keep each other abreast of their personal and career developments through social media. The world didn't have enough supply of geeks, they were a rare life form. So when opportunities arose geeks tended to connect with each other if only for the sake of laughing at the same jokes.

Spike replied to the FB message, "Stay at my apartment." The two exchanged information, Tim gave the 'when' and Spike gave the 'where' and added, "I'll pick you up at the Airport if it coincides with my day off." As it happened, it was Spike's day-off. He went to the Airport to meet Tim who was very excited to get away on holiday.

Tim was out of the plane and out of customs before anyone could say boo, Spike flashed a dimpled smile, "Welcome to Toronto, buddy." A quick man-hug then Spike inquired, "Is that it?" looking at Tim's one sports bag. "I travel light."

"Ok, let's go."

They were home within 45 minutes, not bad considering it was peak hour. They went up to the second floor to Apartment 7. Spike punched in his entry code at the door, they walked in and the motion sensitive apartment came to life, "Sweet," Tim said excited to be in the apartment he's often heard about. Spike gave him a tour and was very amused after Tim had said, "Sweet" about a dozen times.

"I like your place," he said. "Can I see the schematics?" Spike pulled a drawer from his secret cupboard and laid out the full diagram of the apartment for Tim to see. It detailed not just the lay-out but also the mechanism he used for the motion sensors and the infrared technology. "Sweet," Tim said again. McGee was very impressed. It now inspired him to do something to his own place.

The espresso machine made cappuchino for Spike, "What would you like?" he asked Tim. "Latte," he said, "one sugar". He watched Spike program the machine to make the hot beverage to his specification, "Sweet," the visitor said.

When they finished drinking their coffee, Spike introduced his visitor to his mini babycakes, a miniature robot. "It's not built for sniffing bombs yet. Not long now," he explained to Tim. "I just have to buy a detection component but it's too expensive."

The television screen came on by itself, "Hey Spike," a voice called out. It was Yoh-Lin, Spike's CSIS handler. The SRU Techie replied, "Hey Yoh, what's up?" Yoh-Lin pointed his chin to inquire about the tall guy standing behind him, "Oh, this is Special Agent Timothy McGee, NCIS, he's my house guest." He turned to Tim and pointed at the television, "That guy inside the TV is Yoh-Lin, CSIS." They all laughed there being an easy camaraderie among geeks.

"I'll call you later," said Yoh-Lin, "Enjoy the visit Tim." He signed off as quickly as he appeared on screen. Tim was intrigued, "What was that about?"

"When I'm not busy, I consult with CSIS."

"When you're not busy? Between SRU, bomb disposal, robotics and computer forensics, when do you find the time?" Spike shrugged, "Same way you find the time between investigating crimes with NCIS, lecturing, computer forensics and writing best-sellers."

Tim returned his attention to the schematics, "This is brilliant. Can I see your generator?" Spike opened the secret cupboard and it revealed a small generator that would kick in in case of a black out; and, a secondary solar powered generator sitting just outside the small balcony.

They entered the bedroom which doubled as Spike's office, he showed Tim where the bed was, "Feel free to use everything but don't touch the computer or CSIS will break the door down," they laughed at the silliness of it all.

Tim unpacked; except for a few pieces of clothing item all he had with him was a plain looking laptop that no doubt was heavily encrypted. The visitor had one question, "This place is swept for bugs right?" Spike smiled, "It's self-detecting for bugs." What the Techie meant was if there was a bug in the apartment, it would sound off a static noise. "Sweet," said McGee.

Spike's pager buzzed, "Duty calls. You're going to be ok, buddy?" Tim said there was nothing to worry about, "I'll make myself at home."

Spike hurriedly drove to SRU HQ, "What's up?" They were being called to active duty on their day off, there's got to be something big a brewing. He was however surprised to find that he was the only one from Team One called to active duty. Sgt Donna Sabine met him on arrival, "Bank robbery in progress, we don't have a Techie. You're it."

He quickly changed into his tactical uniform and climbed in the Command Truck ready for anything. T3 arrived, the armed robbery quickly escalated to hostage taking. Spike hooked into the bank's cameras only to find out that they had been disabled, as in physically cut. "Sgt Sabine, they cut the cameras off. No eyes, I repeat, no eyes." He got out of the Truck fully expected to be utilised as part of the tactical team, Sabine had another idea, "Spike, is there a chance we can hear them inside? I want to know what they're saying but not telling us."

Spike smiled, "All I need is a cell number. Leave it with me." The Tech whiz went back in the Truck, called the Bank's HQ and requested for the Manager and the staff cell phone numbers. He was provided with all six, there was a chance at least one of these phones would be in an ideal location to eaves drop on the subjects.

He downloaded, installed and validated a sophisticated flexi bug software into the cell phones. Once he had done this, he used his own phone to remotely turn them on by sending an SMS. The message turned the devices into listening aides. Once activated, he could hear the surroundings of the cell phones and the conversations going on around them. Luckily, one of the cell phones was left on the centre teller counter and this proved to be the best listening devices of the six.

Spike announced over the comm link, "Sgt Sabine ready. We can hear them."

The female Sargent acknowledged with "Copy that." She called the branch's landline number and started negotiations with the primary subject, an alpha male who claimed to be "Tony."

"Tony, my name is Sgt Donna Sabine of the Strategic Response Unit. I'm here to talk. What can I do to resolve this quickly and before anyone get hurt?"

Tony replied, "Fine, talk. I have nothing to say but you can talk all you want." He hanged up on her. The T3 Boss realised that they had entered a very dangerous phase, when the subjects refused to talk, there was no way negotiation could progressed. Spike called to her, "Boss, you've got to hear this."

Sabine climbed up the Truck, listened with Spike to the voices the cell phones were picking up. They heard a couple of names, a Jerry and a Frank, so far no Tony has been mentioned. So either Tony didn't exist, the subject provided them with a false name; or, they had to wait a little longer to hear his name mentioned.

They discerned what sounded like American accent. "They're Yanks, I think." Spike hazarded a guess.

"I agree."

"I know someone who can confirm, that's if you don't mind having an American agent on board."

Sabine nodded her consent, "Anything to get these people out of there."

Spike called Tim on his cell phone, "Buddy, need your help. Do you mind if I send a uniform to pick you up?" Tim was happy to assist, "Ok, I'll wait outside." Within seven minutes, a black and white had arrived at Spike's building entrance to escort Tim to the crime scene. The Tech introduced Tim McGee to Donna Sabine. "This is Special Agent Tim McGee, NCIS, my house guest. He just arrived this morning." Donna laughed in spite of the tensed situation, "Welcome to Toronto, Tim." McGee beamed and said, "No problem, glad to help."

Both Spike and Tim eaves dropped on the cell phones, the American looked at his host, "They're fellow Americans," McGee said almost embarrassed, "At least Frank and Jerry are. I can faintly hear a third person. If only he'd come closer to the phone."

"Do you mind," Tim pointed to the on-board computer. "Help yourself," said Spike who moved out of the way. McGee contacted the FBI, the American agency in charge of all bank robberies which is a federal offence. Not long after he has made contact, a senior Special Agent from the Los Angeles Bureau called, "Special Agent Don Eppes, LA Bureau, how can I help you?"

"I'm First Officer Mike Scarlatti of the Strategic Response Unit, Toronto. Special Agent Eppes, thank you for calling back immediately. We have a robbery in progress. At least two Americans are involved. We also think this may not be the first time they've committed bank robbery. So far we can confirm a Jerry and a Frank, we haven't been able to confirm the name of the third person."

Don Eppes casually said, "Let me guess, someone has told you his name is Tony."

They all heard this on their comm, Sgt Sabine returned to the Truck, "Sorry to interrupt, I'm Sgt Donna Sabine of the SRU. Have you been able to confirm the identity of the third subject, I believe he's the alpha male?"

Eppes replied, "Sgt Sabine, Don Eppes. According to witnesses, he's real name is Alfonso. I can confirm it's an American crew. They don't negotiate. In two robberies when they were cornered they blew up the buildings and escaped. Two fatalities. Let me place you on hold for a minute," they heard Eppes typed in the keyboard.

"The robberies started 18 months ago. They first struck in LA early December 2010, then Texas, then Florida where they blew up a building. Then they hit a bank in New Jersey, then a bank in New York where they were cornered again and blew up the building, that's where we had the two fatalities. The total takings had added to over two million. We noticed a pattern about the robberies; the banks were hit after they had just received a huge cash delivery."

_That's a thought_, Spike looked at Tim, "There could be an insider." The clever one called Mike Scarlatti smiled and said, "If there's an insider I may have a way of finding out who."

They all fell silently impressed.

_You would be too if you read the next chapter?_


	2. Kaboom

_Author's Note: This is supposed to be a one-shot story but I got carried away with the plot. Furthermore, since it is my practice to write in a series, please note that I married Winnie off to Spike in the story "Hope". This crossover is a sequel to that, well sort of._

"**Kaboom"**

T3 was happy to have background information on the subjects, ten minutes of intelligence gathering was always better than two minutes of firefight where bodies were strewn around, bleeding to death. Don Eppes suggested to Sgt Sabine, "Don't let on you know his real name, if they're operating to pattern, they might blow up the building with the people still inside."

Curious of the bomb's signature, Spike asked, "What was their bomb signature? They can't have...," before Spike could end his sentence, a massive explosion erupted. The building's window shattered outward causing everyone outside the building perimeter to instinctively duck for cover, using their shield to protect themselves from flying debris. Windows of surrounding buildings imploded.

They were rocked inside the Truck, thrown against the console and against each other. The explosive noise caused their ears to buzz, Eppes flinched as the sound blasted out of the speaker phone. His team gathered around, "What the fuuck?" said Special Agent Colby Granger. Eppes' voice returned shortly, "You guys, ok?" He and his FBI team stood around the phone helpless."That's why he wasn't interested in negotiating." LA Crime Bureau's second in charge David Sinclair completed the observation, "too busy setting up the explosives."

Spike, Tim and Donna Sabine jumped out of the Truck to escape the ringing sound reverberating inside the confined space but coughed uncontrollably as their lungs filled with dust cloud so thick visibility was reduced to Zero. They heard Sgt Sabine, "Get down," in a strained voice, they ducked.

It took at least 10 minutes for the dust cloud to settle. Gas masks helped the first responders to breathe easier but visibility was still negligible, it would be suicidal to enter the building. As a precaution, rescuers didn't enter for a further five minutes in case of secondary explosion. By the time SRU, firemen and paramedics were able to enter, the subjects were gone. The whole episode, the robbery, the hostage taking and the explosive escape took just all of 20 minutes.

SRU T3 supervised the rescue operation. It was all so bloody tedious. The rescuers weren't allowed inside until RCMP Bomb Disposal Unit arrived to clear the building. So they didn't know for nearly another hour if the hostages were unharmed. The not-knowing caused great anxiety to rescuers but protocol was protocol. A dead rescuer wasn't good to anyone. When the go-ahead was given to enter the building, rescuers practically tripped over themselves locating the hostages and were relieved to find them inside the safe.

Although there weren't any fatalities among the hostages, there were a number of injured first responders mostly caused by flying shards of glass and pieces of bricks. Also injured were bystanders and people inside the other buildings as things fell on top of them and windows imploded.

The media were on scene the minute police scanner reported the robbery, uniforms tried their best to push them back. "Unbelievable," muttered Donna Sabine.

When the need for a tactical response was officially declared over, the RCMP Hold Up Squad took over investigation. SRU T3 started an organised withdrawal but Spike and Tim remained on the scene with the Truck.

"Spike," Sabine called out. "Coming," he replied but clearly not keen to leave the crime scene.

Spike knew from experience it was C-4, aka, RDX, abbreviation for the its uncool full name of Royal Demolition Explosive or Research Development Explosive.

"It's C-4," observed Spike. "It has 1.34 time explosive force that of TNT and can produce a pressure wave traveling at 8,040 meters per second." He continued to inform his friend, "The biggest advantage of C-4 aside for being highly stable, is that its malleable. It can be molded in any shape, may be pressed in gaps, cracks or inserted in any type of case. These people may be military or had terrorist connection. I'm betting on the first."

Now in full-on professorial mood, he expounded, "Explosives manufacturers take RDX in powder form and mix it with water to form a slurry. They then add the binder material, dissolved in a solvent, and mix the materials with an ******agitator**. They remove the solvent through distillation, and remove the water through drying and filtering. The result is a relatively stable, solid explosive with a consistency similar to modelling clay." Tim continued to listen patiently, absorbing the information like sponge but he couldn't help observing what a nerd Spike was.

Spike picked up a debris off the floor, "Just as with other explosives, you need to apply some energy to C-4 to kick off the chemical reaction. Because of the stabilizer elements, it takes a considerable shock to set off this reaction; lighting the C-4 with a match will just make it burn slowly, like a piece of wood. Even shooting the explosive with a rifle won't trigger the reaction. Only a ******detonator**, or ******blasting cap** will do the job properly.

"A detonator is just a smaller explosive that's relatively easy to set off. For example, an electrical detonator uses a brief charge to set off a small amount of explosive material. When somebody triggers the detonator, the explosion applies a powerful shock that triggers the C-4 explosive material.

Tim nodded, other people would have tuned out by now. So delighted was Spike with his lone audience, "When the chemical reaction begins, the C-4 decomposes to release a variety of gases like nitrogen and carbon oxide. The gases expand at about ******26,400 feet per second** (8,050 meters per second), applying a huge amount of force to everything in the surrounding area," Spike motioned with his arms, "kaboom" he said with joyful relish. Everyone's head turned toward them. "Oy," someone said, "Clear the area."

The two behaved like they heard nothing, Spike waffled on, "At that expansion rate, its totally impossible to outrun the explosion like they do in action movies. The explosion is nearly instantaneous - one second, everything's normal, and the next it's totally destroyed.

Spike led Tim to Ground Zero, "The explosion has ******two phases**. The initial expansion inflicts most of the damage. It also creates a very low-pressure area around the explosion's origin - the gases are moving outward so rapidly that they suck most of the gas out from the "middle" of the explosion. After the outward blast, gases rush back in to the partial vacuum, creating a second, less-destructive inward energy wave. A small amount of C-4 packs a pretty big punch. Less than a pound of C-4 could potentially kill several people, and several military issue M112 blocks of C-4..."

But even Tim had his limit, he raised his hands, "I get it, Spike. I get it. Can we go now?" The Techie smiled and scratched his head. They climbed back into the Truck, "Let's read the text messages, shall we?" Tim eyed Spike suspiciously, "Is that even legal?" The SRU Techie shrugged, "No one needs to know. It won't be admissible in Court but it'll help us connect the dots." Using the same flexi bug he used to eaves drop on the robbers, Spike quietly downloaded the text messages of the six phones then removed the bug. "Let's do some fact finding, shall we?"

His comm link came alive, "Um... I heard you you know," said Sgt Donna Sabine. "What do you mean no one needs to know, it's on record. Whatever it is you plan to do, don't." The two exchanged quick glances and smiled rather naughtily, she shouldn't have said "Don't." It was akin to raising a red flag to a bull. "Sure," replied Spike, "see you at HQ."

Spike attended a quick debrief, then left to join Tim who was browsing in his workshop at the basement. "That was quick," Tim said when Spike came down to pick him up. "Quick? I was gone a good two hours. You must have enjoyed yourself here."

"I sure did," said Elf Lord. "I'm hungry, it's time we eat lunch."

"I know just where to go."

Spike took Tim to an Italian restaurant close to home, waiting for them was Winnie. "Hi, Miss Sunshine," as Scarlatti greeted her with a kiss, "Tim, this is my wife, Winnie. This is Tim." Win kissed Tim in greetings, the informality over they sat down, "I hope you don't mind, I ordered for us. I was hungry," she informed them.

The food came and the conversation flowed two-ways, between Spike and Tim. Winnie shook her head, she couldn't help but feel like an idiot as the two bantered about anything and everything under the sun starting with the atom bomb to zygotes. She knew better than to interrupt, the last thing she wanted was to be drawn into the conversation. She was wise to finish her meal and excused herself, "Michaelangelo," she said, Spike knew he was in trouble, she used his full name, "Tim," she looked at their guest, "I have to go, so nice to meet you finally." As she said that, she gave Spike's hand a squeeze under the table. His eye balls went up, she leaned over to kiss him and murmured, "We will talk about this tonight, I love you."

As she left them, both men continued to look, Tim observed, "She's beautiful." The Techie nodded, "And too clever for own good."

Not long after they have finished their desserts, Spike's cell phone rang, "Hello?"

"It's Don, Don Eppes, can we talk?"

_I think this is a good place to stop._


	3. The Missing Link

**The Missing Link**

Spike answered, "Yeah, sure," and mouthed "Eppes" to Tim who nodded in acknowledgment. "Anything new?" at the same time motioned to the waiter for their bill. He listened, wrote something down on a napkin, "Right, I'll call you right back." Spike paid. "Don just wanted to know how we are. I wonder how he got my number." With all the electronic gadgetry at his disposal, Eppes didn't have to call anyone to get his number that much he was sure.

They walked home. They were curious as hell. Nothing and no one was going to stop them, Spike had secretly downloaded the text messages from the six cell phones, he and Tim divided it up. After two hours of trawling through the messages, nothing!

"You know what," Tim said, "we're assuming everyone was at work today, what if..

Spike finished the sentence, "one of the staff didn't show up for work." He pulled the napkin out of his pocket, dialled Don Eppes' cell phone number. "Don, its Spike. Was a staff absent at each of the robbery?" Don paused, "Since the robberies were committed in different states, it takes time for information to be uploaded in a central databank. Although the FBI has jurisdiction, typically local law enforcement respond first. I'll check with Quantico, let me get back to you on that."

After a couple of hours, Don was on to Spike again, "Yes, a pattern has emerged on the first four robberies. On each occasion a staff was absent. They're being interviewed now as we speak." Spike called Donna and gave her an update, who in turn called the RCMP Hold Up Squad. She received a rather cold reception, "We have six staff and nine customers to interview, I don't think an absent staff is a priority but we'll keep that small detail in mind," said the lead investigator.

Donna called Spike to tell him of the response. It didn't surprise them, but a pattern was clear as day and they couldn't ignore it. The whole process was taking too long for their liking, by the time they got around to the suspects the trail would be cold. They decided to take matters into their hands.

Spike called the bank manager to inquire how he was doing, he said he was good and thanked him for his concern, "Is it ok if I come to see you?" The bank manager was a bit puzzled, "I'm with a detective, do you work with RCMP?" He came clean, "No, Sir. I'm not with RCMP. I'm with SRU, I was just wondering if every one of your staff was in today?"

"No, not everyone. This morning one of the tellers, Rebecca Blake, called in sick." Spike thanked the Manager.

"How would you handle this?" Spike asked Tim who was floored by the question, "You're the investigator," the Techie pointed out, "I'm just SRU."

"You're just SRU," repeated Tim as he gave his friend a crooked smile. "Well, let's see. If I'm investigating this, I'd go to Personnel and ask for Rebecca Blake personal details, then I'll find her and ask her some questions. But obviously neither you nor I can do that. We're not authorised."

Spike nodded in agreement_, hum_, _not authorised, hum_. "Let's Google shall we, any information in the public domain should be fair game, don't you think?"

First they checked the white pages for a Rebecca Blake in the Toronto area, about 50 names came up. They crossed check the list, using Spike's CSIS-issued computer, against the Ministry of Transportation. Of the 50 names, they found two to be deceased. Of the remaining 48, 10 were pension age. Of the remaining 38, using probabilities, they selected 20 most likely to work in a bank, they started with those.

Tim said, "Let's hope she's not unlisted." Grinning, Spike responded with, "You sure know how to burst bubbles."

Not long after they started on the quest for the truth Don Eppes called again, "Another pattern has emerged, the absent staff was away on a romantic date. This guy, we think it's the same guy, uses different names. He used Romeo, the other Tristan. Then, there's a Paulo and a Rhett with a h."

Tim sparked up, "These are names of romantic lovers. Romeo and Juliet. Tristan and Isolde. What's the other two names again?"

"Paulo and Rhett with a h," replied Don.

"Paulo and Francesca, Dante's Divine Comedy. Do you know they're real historical people? Paulo and Francesca fell in love reading the story Lancelot and Guinevere," he said excitedly. "And Rhett Butler and Scarlett O' Hara, they're the characters of the epic novel, Gone with the Wind."

Tim was on fire, he carried on with his profiling, "These women, I bet they're middle-aged and have given up on finding a lover. Then suddenly a guy shows interest, woes them and they tell him their darkest, deepest secret." Spike thought what a nerd Tim was.

Don Eppes was used to nerds, his brother Charlie, a CalSci professor and maths genius was one. But it was all too much for Don at the moment, he said, "Well done. I'll call again when I have more." He hanged up and shook his head. His Team smiled as they listened, "Was that Charlie?" inquired Colby.

Tim had another thought, "Let's search dating websites for a Rebecca Blake."

"Good idea," said Spike.

Of the remaining 38 Rebecca Blake on their list, one was listed in a dating website, and she looked middle-aged to them. They read the profile, female, professional, works for a bank. "Sweet," said Tim. "Bingo," said Spike.

They decided she must be the missing link. "You know, if the women were away on a romantic date on the day in question, there's a fourth man. These women must have a photo of him. Let's call Don." Spike called the FBI guy again, after a quick pleasantry he asked, "Don, these women do they have a photo of the Lothario?"

"Nope, all the women said the guy was camera shy. We've confiscated the holiday snaps, all of them photos of the women. Same sob story, after they returned from the holiday, the guy disappeared and all they're left with were happy memories. We're still trying to convince them that they've been played. They're still thinking he's coming back or something has happened to him."

"Thanks," said Spike. "You guys have been much help." He looked at Tim, "I think it's time we pay Rebecca Blake a visit." They matched the dating website photo to the driver's license from the Ministry of Transportation, Spike found her. "Bingo." "Sweet."

Win popped in, "Hey guys, are you staying here all day?"

"Miss Sunshine," Spike jumped up and hugged her. "No, we're heading out now, we're doing some sleuthing."

"Sleuthing?" she said.

"Yeah like Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson," replied Tim grinning boyishly_. Oh my God_, Win thought, _they're partners in crime._ Spike snatched another kiss from her and said, "Bye, see you tonight."

They soon arrived at Rebecca's apartment building, Spike rang the doorbell to her flat, no answer, "She must still be away." They glanced up and saw a camera. They looked at each other and grinned.

They went looking for the Supervisor and found him in the laundry room, Spike walked up to the Super, "I'm a security technician, I'm here to check your surveillance system. Maintenance, you know." The guy said, "No one told me someone's coming to maintain the camera. I've been here five years and not once has that camera been serviced."

"That's right," Spike beamed, "About time we do it."

The Super thought about it, "Yeah, about time, I'm running out of cassette tapes, they're all very scratchy now, recycling them all the time. No one could be bothered to buy new tapes." Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson looked at each other and worried_. Oh dear. So near and yet so far._ "It's ok, I will report back to the Body Corporate about it."

They went inside a dingy room, dark and unventilated. "They're all kept here," the Super opened a cupboard. "I've got to water the plant, please return everything where you found them." He turned to leave before Tim and Spike could reply. "Well, that was easy," said Tim.

They played the tape, the super was right, the quality was really bad. Tapes were over reused and the frames were scratchy, "I can fix that," said Tim. "Let's get the last month's recording, let's hope he was gentleman enough to bring her home if not, we're back to square one." They returned everything where they found them and took off with the most recent recordings.

As they headed out, they met the Super. "We took a sample of the tape to show the Body Corporate." The caretaker nodded, "Good luck. These people are such tight asses they don't want to spend money for their own protection."

Spike noticed an automatic teller machine directly across the road, he pointed it to Tim, who burst his bubbles, "You'll need subpoena before the Bank coughs up the tape to that." The SRU Techie groaned, now he remembered why he didn't want to go into the investigation's side of policing. It would just kill him to jump over hoops. Scorpio was much better. One word, one shot. Done! Although he himself wasn't trigger happy.

They went home and set up camp at Apartment 7, "Do you have something to play this on?" Tim asked. "No problem," Spike went to his workshop, returned with an old VHS player, "Anything mechanical I don't throw out," he said grinning.

Tim fed the images to his computer and left it to enhance the pictures. In the meantime, they went to the living room to play a board game of Dungeons and Dragons. Win returned to Apartment 7 to find them absorbed in the game, "Dinner, anyone?"

Spike's eyes sparkled, "Ok, Elf Lord, time to eat."

Tim replied, "Sure thing, Legolas." Off they went to Apartment 8.


	4. Apartment 8

_Author's Note: Apartment 8 came into being in the story "Three Men, Little Alvin and a Tonka Truck", chapters 13, 14 and 15. If you haven't read these chapters I suggest you do so first for your full enjoyment._

**Apartment 8**

Tim expected the adjacent apartment which he had also heard about many times to be exactly like Apartment 7, but he was surprised to see it sort of oldish, untouched, plain, frumpy_. It's a little like a little old lady_, he thought.

The living room has a triple seater couch - that was it. A flat screen television on the wall was the only offering of modern living. The floor was laid full of mismatching Persian rugs, he soon realised why. Two beautifully coated canines greeted them bounding in from the small balcony. They haven't seen Dad all day and were very excited to see him. The trio roughhoused on the floor. Tim smiled at the domesticity of it. He fought the desire welling from his gut to go out and find someone to share his life with. It made him realised he's getting on, living a life of eternal bachelorhood wasn't on his wish list. But seeing his nerd Canadian friend had scored himself a wife gave him hope he'd find his own Princess Lea too. Ok, at this stage he'd be happy to settle for a human.

The styling in the kitchen was 1990s, he could not quite figure out why. It didn't make sense to his MIT educated head. "Why do you have two kitchens?" he asked in a roundabout way of figuring things out. "We're still waiting for the Body Corporate approval to integrate the two flats into one," explained Spike.

Win added, "We also thought initially we'd keep two kitchens cause we have very different management style but we seem to get on now so this kitchen may have to go."

"Two different management styles? In the kitchen?"

"Yeah, she likes to pile everything on the sink then wash up at the end. I like to use, wash and store away. Which one do you think is better?" asked Spike.

Winnie rolled her eyes, Spike crossed his arms in front of his chest and their guest looked like a deer caught in a head light. He thought fast and said, "My way is best. Stick them all in the dishwasher, press 'wash' once a week. Saves water, energy and feed organic life form." They chuckled.

"Hey, do you think you might be able to grow a mutant in your dishwater?" asked Spike. Winnie groaned. She could visualise how the evening's conversation would proceed. _Everything will turn to science_, she thought.

The apartment was open plan, it seamlessly flowed from living room, dining and kitchen. The only indication he was standing in the dining room was a table set for four. _Four?_ "Are we expecting someone else?" he asked.

Spike looked at his wife, who replied, "Yeah, I invited Steph. She's my BFF."

The doorbell rang, "That's her. Can you get the door please?" Spike went to open it and there was Steph, gorgeous as ever. Miss World in Win's eyes. And she really could be if she was vain enough to join a beauty pageant.

Tim was plastered to the floor where he stood. _Wow, somebody slap me please_, he thought. Steph looked like an apparition. She was wearing a white Grecian style dress that went to her mid-calf and a pair of roman sandals. Her blonde hair was parted in the middle and the right side swept up high to the side held by a gold clip. On the crook of her right arm, she carried a bunch of flowers, a bottle of red on her right hand and a box of dessert on her left. "Here, let me take these off you," said Spike.

Winnie squealed, "Oh, you're so gorgeous."

"Thanks darling," she said.

Steph was the only daughter of a property developer and money was never an object. She always had what she wanted, when she wanted but her feet stayed on Terra Firma. The women met at University, connected and formed the firmest of friendship. The contrast between them couldn't be more stark; but it's also their differences that made them interesting individually and as partners in crime.

Win went over to hug her friend and made the necessary introduction, "Steph, this is Tim McGee. Tim, Steph." McGee was sort of intimidated, "Come on, I don't bite," teased the blonde. She made the first move, she stood on her tip-toe to give Tim a peck on the cheek, who instantly turned crimson to Spike's hilarity. Win pinched and wrinkled her nose at him, "Behave," she warned.

Spike poured them all a glass of wine, nothing like it to put everyone in a relaxed mood. The dogs, well, they were the perfect tension breaker of them all. "Win, hon, do you have cushions for the floor?" inquired Steph.

"Yeah, in the cupboard, just to the right of the TV." Miss World grabbed a couple of cushions and sat on the floor cross legged, she looked at Tim and patted the cushion next to her. He at least got the drift. They sat next to each other and the dogs clued in, _We're gonna get some lovin._

Liley sat in front of Steph for a relaxing massage, Moppet sat on Tim's outstretched legs. He noticed, "He's only got three legs." It opened a whole world of free flowing discussion. Their guests now deep in conversation, Spike paid attention to Win, he noticed she was wearing a feminine two-piece outfit for a change. "I like it," he said. She looked at him quizzically, "You like what?"

He touched the collar of her shirt, "This." She smiled. She was wearing a short sleeved high collared shirt, tucked in a balloon skirt. A short scarf tied around her neck, a small belt around her waist. Simple but the outfit pulled in together very well, "Reminds me of Audrey Hepburn in the Roman Holiday," he said. "That's probably because these were Mom's clothes. I asked her for them."

He looked at Tim and Steph, "They seem happy. We can leave them now." She cackled, then she remembered something. "Oh by the way, you can't put your friend to work. He took a break left Washington, D.C. because he needs rest. Asking him to help you isn't resting."

He scratched his head, "What brought that on? I just want to be romantic," he said pouting. Mrs Michaelangelo Scarlatti smiled, "Romantic gesture noted. But please leave your friend to enjoy his holiday."

"Was that what I was in trouble for?" Spike asked.

"Did you commit some other crime?" she asked, her eyes searching for clues.

"No, I'm a good boy." She smirked_, Yeah a good boy, you are._

"Let's have dinner guys," she placed the final dish on the table, a bowl of beef penang curry, and surveyed the fusion of Asian recipes. It was colourfully appetizing. Rice, pappadum, dips, Thai salad, prawn cracker, and later for dessert she was going to serve sesame balls. She didn't make the dessert herself but she found the best place to buy them, Suzie, her American-Japanese friend has been a god-sent. Everything was there and all they need to do was enjoy the meal. The red wine rounded the gastronomic delight.

The conversation was rich with anecdotes because the boys could talk. They were funny and not vain. It only hit a snag somewhat when the discussion turned to work. Steph asked Tim what he did for a living, the answer was straight forward enough, "I investigate crime against American Naval personnel or crimes committed by them.

"What do you do outside of work?" Now, he could really impress, "I lecture. I write books and sometimes I consult with other government agencies."

"What do you lecture on?" Steph was now genuinely very intrigue.

"Computer forensics."

"What's that?" she asked, Win closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, Steph noticed. She whispered, "Wrong question, right?" Win nodded but it was too late, Tim was going full bore. "In a gist, it's about obtaining, analysing and presenting electronic evidence stored in computers and other electronic devices."

Spike forayed into it, "But it's also so much more than that. It's also about recovery of deleted documents, databases, emailed and text messages; cracking encrypted files and passwords to get behind the hidden evidence."

Tim nodded, "Yeah, with computer forensics you can uncover people who mount malicious or hate campaigns; identify those behind online scams, spoofing, data harvesting, virus or denial of service attacks. You can locate key loggers or spyware monitoring programs left behind by past employees, associates or network administrators. But you're really not interest, right?" Tim's eyes went all sad.

Steph and Win both shook their heads. "We get the idea," said Win. "And, you know, you're both very adorable."

"We are?" they said in unison. The women smiled and said, "Yes" at the same time and the boys high-five each other.

"Why don't we watch a movie?" Steph suggested.

"Why not? My choice," Spike jumped up. He went to browse in his DVD library for a comedy, he joyfully picked one out, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," he announced triumphantly. "Surely no one can argue it's one of the best films ever made." He popped it in the DVD player.

Just then Tim's iphone beeped, he checked the small screen, "It's done." They locked eyes and a thousand wordless messages passed between them. Spike turned to Win and Steph who were still at the table, "Uh, we just gotta check something out, we'll be right back." Win's eyes spoke volumnes, Spike quickly left with Tim.

Win suggested to Steph that they watch a movie of their choice, "I seriously doubt they'll be back shortly." The girls chose "Sense and Sensibility." The 1995 version because they both loved Kate Winslet.


	5. Hello Abby

**Hello Abby**

Spike and Tim rushed to Apartment 7 tripping over themselves with excitement. The truth was they were dying of curiosity, dying to find out if they got it right. They were sure there had to be a "Lothario." There had to be. The video was much better, not as grainy, but it still wasn't good enough. Tim sparked up with an idea, "Let's send it to NCIS. We've got high speed facial recognition software, it'll be easy."

"I think your Boss will kill you… wasting NCIS' time and resources," said Spike.

Tim checked the time, "10pm… hum… let me call Abby." He reached Abby via VoIP, "McGeeeee…," she said, jumping up and down with like a bean on steroid. "I miss you so much." Spike saw for the first time, on high resolution computer monitor, the only human alive who could out-smart Tim. "Come back. Please. Please. Mwah," Abby gave McGee air kisses.

Spike was astounded. _That was unexpected. _

Tim tried his best to calm her down, "How can you miss me, Abby? I just left this morning."

"That's too long, McGeeee. Ow, who's that good looking guy behind you?" McGee turned his head around and so did Spike. Abby laughed her pretty head off! _What dickheads?_

Then they realised Abby was laughing at them, "Oh, Abby," he chastised her. "This is Spike. He's with Toronto's Strategic Response Unit. He's a bomb tech and a computer whiz. Spike, that's Abby our Forensic Scientist, Queen of the Lab."

"Hello Spike," she waved vigorously with both hands. Spike waved back, he grinned revealing the craters on his cheek, "I loooveee your dimples," gushed Abby embarrassing the Canadian. "Thanks," he said.

"Why are calling me at 10pm on a Friday of all days? Lucky, my bowling tournament was cancelled or you wouldn't have caught me at home." That was their cue. Tim and Spike alternated to tell her what happened, "Bank robbery?" she squealed, "Cool. I wished I was there."

"C-4? Did you say C-4? Wow, that rocks."

"Yeah, it does," Spike concurred. Afraid the two would go off tangent, Tim got them back on topic. "Guys, we can't waffle on about C-4, we have a crime to solve."

"Ooooo... McGeeee... you sound so mature," Abby said between wiggle of her hips.

Spike wondered if she ever came down from her high or if she snorted something especially when she said, "Oh, I want him. Can he be the Napoleon Bonaparte to my Josephine?" It excited her that one of the culprits had the imagination to be a lover of historical proportion.

"Or maybe Mark Anthony to my Cleopatra," she batted her eyelashes at them and walked like an Egyptian.

"Abby," Tim reprimanded her, "Cool it. Can you help or not?"

"McGeeeee, you're so serious. Ok, I'll help. Send me the video and I'll work on it tomorrow. Send it to me tonight. TONIGHT. If you miss the deadline, then I can't do it. See, only because its the weekend."

Spike interjected, "That's just it. It's the weekend. It's not fair to make you work when you should be enjoying time off."

"Hey, no worries. All I need to do is upload the photo of your Rebecca Blake from her license, feed the video to the machine and it'll do all the work. If she was there, we'll know who she's been with, provided of course he actually brought her home."

"Ok deal. I'll send them to you now. And Abby, tell Tony not to mess with my desk, ok?"

"What desk?" she said.

"Abbyyy….," Tim said sounding worried.

"Yea, yea. I'll tell him. Bye McGee, bye Spike."

Thirty minutes later, the video had been sent to Abby and now there was nothing else to do but wait. The problem was they weren't very good at waiting, it would be a very long weekend, they thought.

"What now?" asked Tim.

"We go back to the other side." The girls were nearly at the end of the chick flick when they returned. With only a few more minutes till the end, Spike and Tim sat on the cushions and were immediately taken advantaged of by the canines. When the movie ended, Win proposed a walk to the park.

The moon was out, the dogs were restless and they were too full. "Let's go for a walk, we need to use up some calories," she said cheerfully. "Good idea," said Spike.

The walk was leisurely, Spike and Win walked hand in hand, the dogs along side them without a leash. Tim and Steph appeared to be enjoying each other's company. There was something to be said about city living. Everything was within reach; the park, the cinemas, the live theaters, the shops. It's vibrant and alive. It's nearly midnight but people were still out and about, it being a Friday.

If their intention was to walk away the calories, it didn't work quiet that way. They stopped for ice cream, the dogs even had their share too. A few more minutes later, they found a French Patisserie that sold coffee and cakes. The cakes looked sumptuous so they ordered a variety of them.

"Heaven," Steph commented after a taste of her_ Moelleux au chocolat_, or chocolate lava cake as it was commonly known. It featured a warm liquid center that dripped seductively down the side of her teaspoon.

Spike ordered the fancy named _Tarte au fromage blanc_, French for cheesecake. "This was just the cake for me," he said, "Light, not-so-sweet. It has just a hint of lemon flavor and baked in a pie crust," spoken like a food critic. They all laughed at his loquacious delivery, Win said, "Yummy would have sufficed."

"Yummy," he said.

Winnie asked for _Reine de Saba_, a simple chocolate cake made dense and moist with almond flour, served topped with crème anglaise. She had a bite and said, "Oh, this is very nice," at that comment Spike spooned half her cake and put it on his plate. "Thanks," he said as he flashed her a dimpled grin.

Tim felt like having something tangy and fruity and settled for a lemon tart. "Nice."

Their palate satisfied, they resumed their walking. The scenery had not changed. It was the same side streets they walked almost daily but the fact they were walking among friends and talking about things that meant to them made it all so enjoyable. It was nearly two in the morning when they got home.

Winnie insisted Steph stay the night in the guest room, that settled, they kissed each other good night and looked forward to a bright beautiful Saturday.


	6. Gotcha

**Gotcha**

Abby was at her lab by 8am, she wanted to get an identity match as soon as possible. The gothic scientist was in the mood. Her ipod's speakers blared a selection of songs by Led Zeppelin, and she played along with air guitar as the riffs of strings filled the air. The song "Kashmir" came on, Abby went wild. But she's also got a job to do. She loaded the photo of Rebecca Blake from her license and ran the video. She had no intention of hanging around, she planned to leave the hardware to its own devices.

That done, she turned off the ipod, played a soothing CD by an unknown artist. The sound of nature enveloped the lab. She lit a couple of aroma therapy candle in a sectioned-off little room in her lab, a place for meditation and where she could sleep if she needed to. King here was Bert, the Farting Hippo. Now, the Queen of the Lab and the King would share quality sleeping time while they waited for the result. When it hits a match, the machine would let her know.

In Toronto, Win, Spike, Steph and Tim woke up close to mid-day so they decided to go out for an alfresco brunch. Liley and Moppet were excited to be out two days in a row. It was a glorious day, the sun was shining but the cloud cover made the heat bearable. They chose a bistro close to the park and dog-friendly.

Steph opted for something light, "raisin toast and latte. I'm still full from last night." Win ordered the same. The boys suffered from hungry eyes. The menu had a picture of a stack of pancakes, oozing with strawberry sauce and a topping of ice cream. "I'll have this, thanks" said Spike to the waiter. Tim ordered the banana pancake with cinnamon ricotta topped with maple syrup. Then there's coffee, of course. Liley and Moppet had their usual treats, doggie biscuits.

Nearing the end of brunch, Steph asked Win to go shopping. "Sure," she said. She reached for Spike's hand who understood, "I'll look after them," referring to the canines.

"Thanks." She turned her attention to Tim, "It was nice getting to know you. Don't let Spike make you work on your holiday, k?"

"I was happy to help," Tim replied smiling.

Steph asked Tim, "How long are you staying?"

"Five days," he said, "Too short, this is my second day and I've barely scratched the surface of the City."

"Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?"

"No.. nothing yet. Any suggestions?"

"Let's go hiking, we don't have to go far to find a nice spot," Miss World suggested, Tim felt his heart jump a bit. "Sure. I'd like that…. very much."

"I'll come get you at 11. I don't wake up before 10," she laughed out loud.

Not long after that they headed back, Steph to collect her car and Win to get her purse. The boys went straight to Apartment 7 with Liley and Moppet.

On Tim's computer screen was a message, big and bold, "92.5% MATCH". Tim quickly opened the message, there was an attachment of a grainy photo of Rebecca Blake with a younger man, 10 years younger it seemed.

Under the photo was a name: Former Petty Officer First Class Oscar Phillips, US Navy (Dishonourably discharge, September 2010). The photo was of Miss Blake's profile and Mr Phillip's backside, he was careful not to face the camera. Of the hours and hours of video tape, it was the lone image of Oscar Phillips. But a car parked next to them captured a full-on reflection of his face. It was that reflection that Abby enhanced.

"Sweet." "Bingo."

After 18 months of running amok, robbing banks and terrorising victims, bombing buildings when they're cornered, this crew was now close to being apprehended. Their luck had run out.

"What do you want do now?" Tim asked. "If we tell your Boss about this, you'd be in real trouble. You're outside your jurisdiction."

"Not to mention pay grade," Spike replied mimicking his CSIS friends.

They grinned at the silliness of it. _Fancy being in trouble for solving a crime?_

Spike suggested they call the FBI, "Let them take the glory. They can coordinate with RCMP, I expect they'd want to request for extradition anyway with the two deaths these guys have to account for."

Tim agreed, "Good idea." The Canadian called Don who was enjoying a rare leisurely lunch with long-term girlfriend. "Don Eppes. This better be important," he said.

Spike held his breath for a millisecond, and mentally said oops, "Don, it's Spike. This will be quick. We've got a name for you. Your mystery Lothario is Oscar Phillips, ex US Navy. Tim McGee will send you the details."

"What can I say? Well done. Send it to my phone, ok?"

"One more thing, Don. You didn't get this from us, ok? Work it out with RCMP but leave my name out of it." Eppes got the drift. "Ok, no problem. Thanks again."

Don looked at the uploaded email, "Gotcha" he said and whooped! His girlfriend, Robin Brooks, an Assistant United States Attorney glanced at him and guessed from the reaction it could only be good news.

They called Abby at the Lab via VoIP to thank her. She streamed on-line like a super bean on steroid. Her head was bobbing up and down; her eyes were closed, riffing with air guitar moves to Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody". Tim had to shout to get her attention, "ABBBBYYYYY," she happened to look up and saw Tim's reddening face from the exertion.

She turned down the music, waved her hands at them with such enthusiasm Spike worried her arms would detach. "Hi McGeeeeee, hello Spiky, who's the clever girl?" They both said "You are" at the same time.

Spike added, "You rock girl." Tim looked at him and said, "Don't say anymore if you don't want her head swelling to the size of Alaska." He turned to her, "Thanks Abby."

"Nothing to it, easy peasy. You owe me a week supply of Caf-pow. Bye." She logged out.

"What's Caf-pow?"

"Legalised poison," replied Tim. "Caffeine in liquid form."

The mystery was solved. Now, there was nothing to do to keep them occupied. "Hum, what do we do now?" asked Elf Lord.

Spike took out the Dungeons and Dragons board game again and they continued their quest to greatness.


	7. By Golly

**By Golly**

Sunday, Tim's third day in Toronto

Win and Spike wouldn't see Tim all day, they didn't expect to. They knew Step was taking care of him and she's the greatest tour guide ever. It's very rare for them to have the same days off; this was one of those. "Whad you like to do today, Miss Sunshine?" He asked nuzzling her neck.

"Sleep in," she said, turning over to cover her face. He looked at the time, "But it's already 8." Unless he stayed up till the wee hours of the morning, Spike had the habit of getting up at 5. So 8am to him was slept-in. She groaned, "I heard that," he said. Feeling gracious, he added, "Ok, sleep. I'll take Liley and Moppet for a run." _Bliss_, thought Win.

The dogs liked it when Daddy's home. He always took them out for a run. Mommy's not much fun. Always staying indoors and when she exercised she did yoga, boring!

The run was invigorating for all of them. Watching the dogs play around he knew it must be hard for them to be cooped up in an apartment flat. _They need a garden to run around in_, so he thought perhaps it's time to rethink their living situation before they spend money renovating Apartment 8. Seven was another story, however. He'd not be able to give that up. Too much imagination had gone into it.

They were gone for a couple of hours. He had to bring them home before they dehydrate in the heat. The full coated canines, especially Liley, can't be overtaxed or she'll go into seizure with heat stroke.

He wondered if he should visit with Tim but decided against it, _Steph will be here soon. _They literally broke down the door to Apartment 8. "Hey, careful." Win saw the state of the three of them and winced. It seemed he was dripping sweat all over and the dogs' tongue was hanging out. She was horrified. "Did you bring a bottle for them?"

Spike shrugged. Win hurriedly put some water out for Liley and Moppet who lapped it up like water was going out of fashion. She stood facing Spike, formed her hands into fist, "Arrgh," she said. He found that very funny, "You are too cute," he said laughing. She was left to wonder if she actually married a 10 year old.

Steph arrived at Apartment 7 at 11 as planned. She looked stunning though she was plainly dressed. A tight-fitting white T-shirt layered by a similar green-coloured T underneath, 3/4th legging and comfortable hiking shoes; the work-out clothes high-lighted her toned muscles which made her look all the more attractive. He dressed in T-shirt and sport shorts to match her outfit.

They didn't have to travel far to find bush land. "This is called Logging Trail," she said, "It's very scenic. You look like you're in good shape… that's good cause this isn't going to be a walk in the park." He accepted the challenge with a smile, "I've got to be fit to do what I do so I think I can manage."

She popped open the trunk, "I packed a picnic lunch." He went round, took out the blanket and the basket. She carried a bottle of wine. They found a shaded area to put their spread out, ate lunch as if time stood still. It was 2pm by the time they started packing up the picnic basket and not much hiking to be done. So they did the responsible thing and drove back to the City.

Instead of the bushwalk, they did the urban trail, she selected the Vista Trail, an easily accessible 1.5 km loop. It offered panoramic bluffs view of the Little Rouge Creek valley. It was a very scenic, even amazingly fantastic in places, though it's so close to the City. The city seemed so far away, especially from the top overlooking the bluff's view, in reality they were in the midst of it. The trail was steep in places but it only serve to add joy to exploring it.

It was dark when they concluded the walk, Steph drove Tim home, "Thanks, I had so much fun."

"You're welcome," she said, "I enjoyed it too."

"Can I take you out to dinner?" Tim asked his gracious hostess. She replied, "Not tonight but I'm free Tuesday."

"Tuesday," was all Tim could say, he easily got tongue tied. They exchanged phone numbers. She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and flashed him a gorgeous smile, "See you Tuesday".

Spike heard Tim arrived so he quickly ducked his head out, "Have you eaten?"

"No," was the short reply.

"Come on over, have pizza with us. Meet some of my buddies."

"Sure, I'll shower and I'll see you soon."

Tim joined them shortly and was introduced to a motley crew, "Team One. This is Tim McGee." He introduced T1 to Tim by name starting with Raf.

"Oh, this is Billy, our adopted mascot," he grabbed Billy's shoulders. She elbowed Spike, extended a hand to Tim and said, "Hi Tim, been hearing a lot about you. You're a legend." His eyebrows went up, "Aussie?" he inquired.

"Yup, bloody Aussie," she said.

And lastly, "This is my Boss, Sgt Greg Parker," Tim was surprised, "Not Sgt Donna Sabine?" Spike explained he was called in for the day because the usual Techie for T3 wasn't in.

"What was that about?" asked Parker. Spike told him of the Friday's bank robbery, and since T1 was on rostered day off, he hasn't heard some of the finer details.

Parker transferred his attention to Tim, inquired with a smile, "What were you doing there?"

"I got roped in to verify the nationality of the perps, that's all," Sgt Parker smiled at the use of the American slang, "That was nice of you to help out."

T1 was due back to work tomorrow so Spike was concerned for his house guest, "Do you have plans for the last two days?" Spike asked.

"Oh yeah, I have," answered Tim enthusiastically, there was a twinkle in his eyes. Win and Spike thought it must be because of Stephanie but they couldn't have been further from the truth because although he really, really liked Miss World there was one thing he'd rather do.


	8. Wow

**Wow**

They didn't see much of Tim at all after that. But she did see him looking all dapper Tuesday night for a dinner date with Stephanie. He was dressed in a tuxedo, his body length framed by a long scarf that draped handsomely down his neck, all 6'1 of him looking awesome.

"Wow, you looked a million dollar," teased Win when they met at the corridor. He was on his way out to see Steph; she arriving home from work.

"How's work today?' he inquired politely.

"Busy but thank God nothing explosive."

"Spike at work?"

"Yeah, he won't be home till midnight. Our schedule overlaps by four hours. Enjoy your dinner and give my love to Steph."

"Will do," Win noticed there was spring in his steps_. He's very happy. That's cool. _

Tim selected one of the best restaurants in Toronto, famous for its food and views of the city, being situated on top of a high rise. Normally, there was a long wait to be served here, reservation far in advanced was required to get a table, but Tim's platinum card company did a lot of talking. The card company's concierge department smoothed things over and a table was found for them at short notice. Well, if one could define two days as short notice.

Steph turned heads as usual, she had a flair about her; Tim knew for certain he was the envy of the men. They had window seats and the views didn't disappoint, it was spectacular. They watched as the lights from cars and buildings danced. The moon was out and its reflection clearly seen on the waters of Lake Ontario.

He was going home tomorrow, and he wanted this night to be the best. He wasn't sure where this would lead, and neither was Steph, but they were not keen to indulge in fortune-telling, they simply wanted to enjoy the moment. This moment.

They finished the evening at Steph's apartment, a night cap. They listened to music, sipped wine and cuddled to enjoy each other's body warmth. Tim had to return to Washington, D.C. in the morning so he had to bade her goodbye, "Would you like to visit D.C. sometime?" he asked casually.

"May be. I can't say yet but I'll let you know if I do."

Tim called for a cab to take him home, it was 3am. His flight was scheduled for 9 in the morning so he decided against sleeping.

He packed his bag, did some last minute tweaking for a project he just completed, showered and changed. It was 6am by the time he finished all that. He wrote a "Thank You" note for Win and Spike, left it on the kitchen bench.

He was out the door by 6:30 am, in the Airport by 7am. He checked in and relaxed in the member's lounge until his flight was called for boarding.

Spike was awake at 5am but didn't want to disturb his guest. He knew his plane was leaving at 9am, he looked at the time, 7:15, he called Tim's phone. "Hey, buddy, would you like me to drive you to the Airport?"

Tim laughed, "I'm at the Airport. I didn't want to trouble you. I knew you were working till midnight. By the way, I left something for you at 7, hope you like the surprise."

"You didn't have to. It was a pleasure to have you around."

They chatted for a bit more, and ended with Spike promising to take Win to Washington D.C. sometime for a visit.

They hanged up, Spike eagerly went to 7 to check out the surprise. He opened the door, a 3-D hologram of Obi Wan Kanobi suddenly appeared, and a voice-over came through his surround sound stereo speaker, "Welcome to the realm, Han Solo." Spike was beside himself, he pumped his fists up and down, jigged in place and whooped.

He left the flat. Waited a minute and walked in again, the 3-D hologram of Obi Wan Kanobi appeared and voice-over said "Welcome to the realm, Han Solo." He clapped like a child_. Awesome._

He did it again a third time. Winnie heard noises, _something was up_, curious she went to check out what was happening next door. She entered the room, lo and behold, the 3-D hologram of Obi Wan Kanobi appeared. She was surprised. Then a voice-over came on, "Welcome to the realm, Princess Lea." Spike was bowled over_, it has facial recognition_.

Win laughed, Spike looked like he went to heaven. _**Wow. Awesome.**_

Spike dialled Tim's number, it went to voicemail. He left him a profusedly happy thankgiving message. On the kitchen bench, there was a profusedly happy thanksgiving note. "Thank you for everything and thank you for inspiring me to do something for my place."

Spike decided he'd return the favour one day, whenever that might be.

The end -


End file.
